


I See Your Pain

by Johnlocked5687



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bullying, Cutting, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Self-Harm, Soulmates, teen!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-13 19:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11191440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlocked5687/pseuds/Johnlocked5687
Summary: They say you are able to see and experience whatever pain your soulmate is feeling. For John, all he knows about his soulmate is that whoever it is, they are suffering. After many nights of watching fresh cuts appear on his arms, John's soulmate nearly kills himself. When John gets hospitalised due to an accident, will fate bring them together? Or is it too late?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Johnlock soulmate fanfic competition.

**JOHN**

It all started one night when John discovered a strange bruise on cheek, right below his right eye. He had no idea where it had come from, he hadn’t been hit there in months. Since it was hard to see the bruise, the boy chose to ignore it. He went out of the bathroom and sat back down onto the couch, where his best friend was waiting for him.

“What happened to your eye?” Greg asked as he resumed the movie.

“I have no idea, the bruise just appeared out of nowhere,” John replied, “I haven’t been in a fight in months, and I wasn’t hit in the practise.” At that, his friend paused the movie and looked at him, a mysterious glint in his eyes.

“I might have a few ideas,” he said, “you have heard of soulmates, right?” Without waiting for John’s answer, he continued. “Maybe something happened to your soulmate. I have heard and in fact, experienced, that if something happens to your soulmate, they get a scar for example, you get it too. It’s quite fascinating.” John looked at the boy in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t believe in this kind of-” he was cut off by a sharp pain in his stomach and he let out a loud yelp.

“Karma is a bitch,” Greg answered, grinning.

“I wonder what is my “soulmate” doing.”

 **SHERLOCK**

“That’s what you get for being weird, you freak!” The boys laughed and walked away.

Sherlock slowly stood up, brushing dirt off of his sleeves. He grabbed his backpack and stumbled back to his flat.

As he opened the door to his flat, he noticed a shadow sitting on the couch. He sighed in frustration when he realised who it was.

“What happened to you?” Mycroft asked.

“Why should YOU be concerned?” Sherlock growled, taking a tissue from the table and brushing away the blood from his lip.

“I am your big brother,” Mycroft said to the boy, “it may not look like it, but I care about your well-being, brother mine.” Sherlock glared at him and tossed the tissue back onto the table. He grabbed his violin from the corner and faced the window, signalling his brother to get out of the apartment.

“I’m just a call away, you know,” the older man sighed, going out of the door.

“Where are you when I need you the most?” Sherlock muttered and took the violin from under his chin, carefully placing it back to the corner where it belonged. He heard steps coming up from the stairs, they belonged to Mrs Hudson, his landlady.

“Oh what happened to you, dear?” the lady asked when he saw the condition of the young man’s face, “did the boys in your school do this?” Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat down onto the couch, there was no point in trying to escape Mrs Hudson.

Only moments later, the woman appeared from the kitchen, a wet towel in her hand. She stood in front of the boy and wiped his face. Apparently there had been some more blood on there. She then whipped out a bag of ice and wrapped the towel around it, handing it to Sherlock.

“Put this under your eye, it will help with the bruise,” she said, “when did you last eat?” Sherlock opened his mouth to reply.

“Don’t even answer, I’ll make some food for you,” the woman exclaimed, “I’ll be back in 10 minutes.” Mrs Hudson rushed downstairs, leaving the door open. Sherlock rolled his eyes, Mrs Hudson with her helping.

Suddenly the boy’s phone buzzed and he took it out, half expecting for it to be an another useless text from one of his classmates.

_My dad wanted help with a case, will you come?_

Sherlock knew who sent the text when he read the word case and he smirked. It was Graham Lestrade, the son of one of Scotland Yard’s Detective Inspectors. He was always the one who texted him, since the boy’s dad hadn’t bothered to get his number yet.

_Text me the details - SH_

***

**JOHN**

“Pass the ball, Watson!” Mike yelled and John hit the ball towards his friend. A week had passed since John had discovered the strange bruise, he had almost forgotten about it.

Suddenly he heard quiet giggles. The boy turned his head in the direction where the noise was coming from and noticed a group of girls sitting on the grass and looking at them. He recognised only two of them, Mary and Marion, who was Mike’s girlfriend.

John ignored the girls for the rest of the practise. As he was walking out of the stadium with Mike, he saw Mary approaching him. His friend sent him a cheeky grin and waved, then walking away.

“Um, John, would you like to go out and get some coffee?” the girl asked, biting her lip anxiously. _“How does one refuse politely when asked on a date?”_ John didn’t want to sound harsh, he didn’t like breaking hearts. But also he didn’t want to give the poor girl false hope.

“Sorry, I got to do stuff,” John replied, smiling politely.

“Oh...maybe some other day then?” Mary said and John nodded. She smiled, waving, and walking off.

“Why can I never say no?” John muttered and growled. He had no idea how to talk himself out of this. He was pulled out of his trail of thoughts by Greg who had somehow appeared beside him.

“You look troubled, what happened?” he asked and the boy sighed.

“Mary asked me out,” he said to his friend, “I accidentally gave her false hope. I have no idea how to get out of this mess.” Greg patted the troubled boy on the shoulder.

“What am I going to do with you,” he chuckled.

***

**SHERLOCK**

Sherlock stumbled into his flat and dropped his bag onto the floor. He rushed into the bathroom and opened the cupboard. He took out the razor and sank down onto the floor. Mrs Hudson was out of town so she couldn’t come and stop him.

Sherlock brought the razor to his wrist and cut a deep line. Blood started dripping and the boy clenched his teeth. He then cut an another line, and a line after that.

When his wrist was almost covered in cuts, some tiny, some big, Sherlock let the razor fall to the ground. The words ‘freak’ and ‘psychopath’ filled his head and he choked out a sob. The boy hid his head in his arms and cried quietly, the bottled up emotions flowing out.

**JOHN**

John was sitting on the couch, watching TV with Greg, when suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his left wrist. He pulled the sleeve back and saw how scars appeared on his hand. Greg noticed his scrunched up face and leaned over. When he saw the scars, his eyes widened.

The scars stopped appearing after a few minutes and John breathed out in relief.

“Thank god they stopped,” he muttered and Greg nodded.

“I wonder what happened that your soulmate chose to self harm,” Greg muttered and John shrugged.

“I hope they will feel better though.”

“I’m sure they will.”

***

Over the few days, John didn’t notice any new bruises. He thought that his soulmate felt better and that they had overcome their problems. The upcoming game with UCL’s team made him forget all the problems and focus on practising instead.

“You ready to play?” Greg said as he threw John his water bottle, “excellent reflexes, you’ll do.” At that, John burst out laughing, giving his friend a pat on the back.

“Of course,” John replied and grinned up at Greg.

“Boys, let’s get out to the field, the game starts in 5 minutes,” Mike suddenly said and the boys went onto the stadium.

The game was going well, John’s team was winning by 3 goals.

“Pass the ball Watson!” Jensen yelled and John looked at the direction of the boy. He was about to hit the ball but suddenly his leg got stuck and the next second John was on the ground, clutching his elbow. The referee stopped the game and medic rushed onto the field.

“You okay, mate?” Mike asked and John nodded weakly.

“He has broken his elbow,” one of the medics said to the referee, “he must be brought to the hospital at once.” John winced when the medics helped him up and brought him to the side of the stadium.

Greg sent him a reassuring look before going to the field to play instead of the boy. John sat down onto a seat and he was given an ice pack to put against his elbow.

“The ambulance should come in a few minutes,” one of the medics said and John nodded.

John made it to the hospital in 15 minutes. He was under morphine so he felt pretty numb.

“We’re going to have to give you surgery,” a doctor said and John nodded. The last thing he remembered was doctors looking at him and then he fell into deep sleep.

John woke up in the intensive care room. He looked around the room and noticed a strange boy in the other bed.

“Hi?” John said and the mysterious boy raised his head, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Hi,” the boy replied. Silence took over the room, both of the boys wanted to talk about something but they didn’t want to break the silence.

“So, why were you put here?” John asked. His roommate suddenly got quiet and bit his lip. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“I cut. Lost too much blood. Brother found me and called the ambulance,” the boy said and John raised his eyebrow.

“Really?” the boy nodded, biting his lip anxiously, “what’s your name?”

“Sherlock.”

“I’m John.”

“Why were you put here?”

“I was playing football and I fell, stuck up my arm and tried to catch myself, but the joint hyper-extended,” John said. Sherlock eyed John’s clothes on the chair and looked back at the boy.

“You played against UCL, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

“I didn’t know, I observed,” the boy said, “your football gear, your school is playing against UCL, my school today. You practise quite a lot, probably every day, your hands up to the shirt sleeves are tanned.”

“That was amazing,” John said and a smile appeared on his roommate’s lips.

“You think so?”

“Of course it was. It was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary.”

“That’s not what people normally say.” John raised his eyebrow.

“What do people normally say?”

“Piss off.” John chuckled. But when he saw that Sherlock was serious, he stopped immediately. 

“I bet they’re just jealous,” John said and the other boy smiled briefly.

“I doubt that.”

“Why?”

“I’m not a very likeable person.” 

“You seem likeable to me,” John exclaimed. Suddenly the door opened and a nurse stepped in.

“Oh good, Mr Watson, you’re awake,” she said, “some of your friends wanted to come and visit you.” John nodded and the nurse went out of the room.

A few seconds later Greg entered the room.

“How have ya been mate?” Greg asked as he came to stand beside John’s bed.

“I’m fine,” the boy replied, “Greg, that’s Sherlock.” Greg turned around slowly and faced Sherlock.

“YOU!? Why are you here?” he asked and Sherlock grinned darkly.

“Ah, Geoff-”

“It’s Greg.”

“Whatever.” John looked between the two boys, confusion taking over his face.

“Wait, how do you two know each other?” he asked.

“Sherlock helps Scotland Yard-”

“I don’t help, I solve,” Sherlock stated, causing Greg to glare daggers at him.

“Sherlock helps Scotland Yard with cases sometimes.” John raised an eyebrow at his roommate, this boy was interesting.

Suddenly the door opened and a man in a suit and an umbrella entered. Sherlock let out an audible groan.

“Why are you here?” he asked, an annoyed look on his face.

“Just wanted to check on you, brother dear,” the strange man replied, then turning towards John, “I’m Sherlock’s older brother Mycroft, by the way, you’ll be seeing me quite a lot here.” Greg turned back towards John, an amused impression on his face.

Suddenly a yelp was heard and all of the eyes turned to now blushing Mycroft. The brothers were glaring at each other and there was a smirk on the younger boy’s face. Mycroft growled and stormed out of the room.

“I’ll check if he’s okay,” Greg muttered and went out of the door. John turned towards Sherlock, his eyes widening.

“He doesn't even know your brother,” he exclaimed.

“They’re soulmates, that’s enough,” Sherlock replied and John raised his eyebrow.

“How did you know that?”

“Graham has a scar on his arm, Mycroft has one in the same place, too. Also I could FEEL the sexual tension from the second that my dear brother entered the room. They probably won’t come back to the room.” At that, John burst out laughing.

“Have you found your soulmate yet?” John asked and Sherlock shook his head, “me neither. Half of the time I have no idea what they’re doing though. They get so many cuts and bruises.” John chose not to talk about the cutting part, there was a slight chance that Sherlock would find it triggering.

“My soulmate never gets bruises. Literally, never,” the other boy replied, chuckling lightly.

Suddenly a quiet moan was heard from behind the door and John’s eyes widened.

“That was Greg’s voice,” John said with a horrified expression and Sherlock let out a dark chuckle.

“Let’s talk louder, that’s my brother who’s snogging him,” he said and gulped. As he said that, an another moan was heard, this time not Greg’s.

“That’s it, I’m putting a stop to this, I can’t bear it!” Sherlock said and stepped out of bed. He pulled along his infusion pole and walked to the door, opening it.

“GET A ROOM!” he yelled and John heard awkward coughs. Sherlock closed the door.

“Oh god, the sight of them snogging. I’m scarred for life,” he exclaimed and John burst into laughter.

“I don’t want to picture it. My flatmate and your brother.”

“It’s probably caught on the security tape, I can hack into the system and show you,”

“Oh god no.”

***

**SHERLOCK**

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Sherlock suddenly announced and stood up. He walked into the bathroom and locked the door. He then sank down onto the floor and tore away the tubes, wincing slightly when the needle came out of his skin.

Seeing Greg and Mycroft made Sherlock realise that he would never find his soulmate. Even if he did, they would probably be startled by Sherlock’s scars and not love him.

Tears started to prickle his eyes and he got out the scalpel that he had stolen from one of the doctors. He cut deep lines into his already broken wrists, opening the old scars in the process. Tears started to fall from his eyes as he cut deeper.

Sherlock’s body started to shake which caused his hand to tremble and the cut went too deep. The boy let out a whimper and squeezed his eyes together.

“SHERLOCK!”


	2. Chapter 2

**JOHN**

John watched as deep cuts appeared onto his wrist.

“Why are you cutting again?” he muttered and winced as more cuts came. He noticed that the old scars were opening and groaned in pain, imagining what his soulmate was going through.

Suddenly John heard a quiet whimper and he raised his head in horror. He looked at the bathroom door and saw a puddle of blood forming.

John tore out his IV and rushed to the door.

“SHERLOCK!” he yelled and banged against the door, wincing as his left fist contacted the door. He soon realised that Sherlock won't open it so he had to break down the door.

John stood back and then threw himself against the left side of the door. He repeated that a couple times. As he was about to give it the last blow, he heard an another quiet whimper. It seemed to give him more strength so he gave it the last blow.

The door flew open and John ran in. He found Sherlock unconscious against the wall, a scalpel beside him and a pool of blood surrounding him.

The boy knew that Sherlock had only a few minutes and he would be gone so he rushed back to their room and pressed the emergency button.

The nurses rushed into the room only seconds later. John didn't even need to say anything, the blood made everything clear.

In a few seconds Sherlock was back in his bed and rolled out of the room. A few nurses came back and put the IV back into John's hand. Then he was left all alone again.

***

John awoke in the morning. He opened his eyes and slowly sat up.

“Thank you for what you did to my brother,” the voice startled John and he looked at the direction it was coming from. He saw Sherlock's older brother Mycroft, sitting on Sherlock's old bed with his black umbrella.

“Is he okay?” John asked, looking straight in front of him, not daring to meet the other man's eyes.

“He’s stable. An anonymous donor gave him blood,” Mycroft said.

“It was you, wasn't it?”

“I'd do anything for him.”

“Can I go see him after I'm released?”

“You have grown rather fond of my little brother,” Mycroft's statement brought a light blush to John's cheeks, “you can see him anytime you want, I've arranged it so you could be there for any time you want to.”

***

John was released a few hours later. He was lead straight to Sherlock’s room.

When the boy saw Sherlock, he could FEEL his heart breaking. The other boy was strapped to his bed, sleeping. John sat down in the corner of the room and faced the bed.

“John?” John was woken from his slumber by Sherlock’s quiet voice, “what are you doing here?” The shorter boy stood up from his seat and walked beside Sherlock’s bed.

“Why?” John asked and gritted his teeth, “why did you do that?” Sherlock looked past the boy, biting his lip anxiously. John stepped closer to the bed.

“Answer me! Why did you do this Sherlock?” he whispered, “if I hadn’t found you, you would have DIED last night!” At the last sentence, John’s voice broke down and he crouched in front the bed, sobbing in his hands.

“I’m sorry John, you know how suicide works,” Sherlock replied, not daring to meet the other boy’s eyes.

“When will you be released?” the shorter man asked, slowly standing up once again, wiping his eyes furiously.

“He’ll be released in two days,” a voice from behind both boys spoke and Sherlock visibly gritted his teeth. John shot him a glare, he didn’t know what his brother had done for him.

“Stop this attitude, Sherlock. You’re acting like a little kid,” John said and sat down onto the chair right beside the bed. Mycroft joined them a few seconds later, standing behind the head of the bed.

“Mummy is coming over in a few hours. She’s worried about you, you know,” he said and Sherlock rolled his eyes, “she was devastated when she heard that you had opened your wounds again.” The man looked at John.

“Thank you, again,” he continued, “without your quick acting, Sherlock would be dead.” Mycroft glared at Sherlock when he said those words.

“I don’t care what she thinks of me, what anyone thinks of me,” Sherlock growled, glaring at Mycroft, “if I was home SAFELY, I would take the nearest chair and hit you with it. Very hard.” That was enough for John.

“ENOUGH SHERLOCK!” he yelled, clearly scaring the other boy, “YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TALK TO YOUR BROTHER LIKE THAT! YOU KNOW WHY YOU’RE ALIVE? BECAUSE MYCROFT HERE BOTHERED TO CAME HERE AT 3 IN THE MORNING AND GIVE THEM BLOOD. YOU WOULD BE DEAD RIGHT NOW IF IT WEREN’T FOR HIM.” Sherlock stared at his brother in agony.

“W-why did you do this, Mycroft?” he asked, a tremor in his voice, “I don’t deserve your help, anyone’s help in general. I mess everything up, causing everyone near me to get hurt. Why didn’t you let me die, it would be easier for everyone.” Mycroft moved beside Sherlock’s bed.

“I would do anything to keep you safe, brother dear,” he whispered, “don’t you dare to think that you’re not worth it. Awfully lot of people care about you, even though they don’t show it, they still do.” Both of the brothers were tearing up.

The silence was interrupted by Mycroft’s phone ringing. He sighed and went out of the door to answer it. The room was filled with an awful silence after he left. John made up his mind, he was going to try to help the young boy in front of him.

“I’m going to take care of you after you get released,” he said and the younger boy raised his head in confusion.

“I don’t need help. I can take care of myself perfectly fine,” Sherlock muttered. John growled, so the other boy had changed back to his arrogant self in mere seconds.

“Mycroft told me stuff about you, you know,” the shorter boy spoke, “he told me that you sometimes don’t eat or sleep in days. You also smoke and do drugs. And there’s also a slight chance that you start cutting and that time you would die. You clearly need someone to watch over you. And your landlady can’t babysit you.”

“Fine, I need a flatmate anyway.”

“Perfect.”

***

Sherlock’s mum came over 4 hours later.

“Who’s that young chap?” she asked when she saw John, “oh Sherlock, have you finally found someone?” Sherlock shook his head immediately, his cheeks darkening.

“We actually met just yesterday, Mrs Holmes,” the woman turned at John’s words.

“Really? You two became friends very quickly then,” she exclaimed, an amused tone in her voice. She was still thinking that the boys were a couple.

“Mummy, John was the one who found me. We’re not together,” Sherlock whispered, guilt taking over his mind. Mrs Holmes pulled John into a tight hug.

“Thank you so much, John,” she said and released John.

“No problem, Mrs Holmes.”

“Oh dearie, call me Violet.”

“Okay Mr-I mean Violet.”

“Oh I hope William has thanked you,” the woman said, eyeing her son cautiously, “because if he hasn’t…” Sherlock hid his head into his hands in embarrassment. He could actually do that because since John wasn’t leaving, the doctors trusted him enough to remove the straps.

“Mummy, stop it,” he growled and Violet burst into laughter.

“Well, I better get going now,” she said, “got a lot of work to do.” She pulled her son into a quick hug.

“I love my William,” Violet spoke, “such a good boy, and I know his father would kill anyone who would harm him.” The woman sent a pointed look towards John.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“Good.” At that, she left.

The boys looked each other and burst into laughter.

“Well your parents are...interesting,” John said and Sherlock nodded.

“They’ve always been like this. From the very start.”

“Well your childhood must've been hell and a half.”

“Yep,” Sherlock nodded, “but never being able to go out and play with the other kids wasn’t really bothering me to be honest.” When he saw the other boy’s confused face, he decided to explain.

“I can identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb. Now imagine an 8-year-old me playing with children,” he spoke, “I would be freaking them out by deducing their life stories.” John chuckled, imagining what would it look like.

“And probably enjoying it very much.”

“Definitely.”

***

Over the next 2 days, the boys had gotten really good friends. When it was time to leave the hospital, the were basically inseparable.

“221B Baker Street please,” Sherlock said as they got into a cab.

They arrived at Baker Street 20 minutes later. Sherlock knocked on the door and it opened seconds later, revealing a very angry Mrs Hudson.

“Sherlock how could you do this to yourself?” she asked, her anger suddenly going away when she noticed John, “who’s that handsome chap.” She winked and both of the boys’ cheeks flared red.

“That’s my friend John,” Sherlock replied, “now if you don’t mind, let me get to my flat.” The woman stepped aside, a suggestive smirk playing on her lips.

“Don’t have TOO much fun, boys,” she yelled after them and quickly rushed into her flat.

“Apparently Hudders cleaned my flat,” Sherlock said, a biscuit in his hand, as John stepped into the flat, “she also made some biscuits, I suggest that you try them, they’re really good.” The shorter grabbed one from the table and took a bite.

“There's another bedroom upstairs, if you'd be needing two bedrooms.” Mrs Hudson suddenly said from behind them and John turned around.

“Of course we’ll be needing two.”

“Oh, don't worry. There's all sorts 'round here. Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones,” the woman lingered on the doorstep for a second before turning away and going down the stairs. The flat was quiet for a second.

“Did the doctor give you any meds?” John asked, desperately trying to change the topic.

“I mean, they gave me antidepressants,” Sherlock replied, “I take them at 5 in the evening, so I have 2 hours until that.” The other boy nodded.

“Well, what should we do then?”


	3. Chapter 3

**SHERLOCK**

“Where do I sleep then?” John asked.

“There’s a second bedroom upstairs. I’m pretty sure Hudders has already done the bed,” Sherlock replied and the other boy nodded.

“Well, good night then?” he said.

“Good night John.”

Sherlock went into his bedroom and straight into bed. In a few minutes he was sleeping.

_“Freak!”_

_“Psycho!”_

_“Weirdo!”_

_These were the usual things Sherlock heard, he was used to it. He kept on walking through the corridor towards his class, ignoring all the stares and whispers._

_Suddenly he was on the ground, teens surrounding him from every side, leaving no escape. One of the boys, Philip, dragged him outside. The children started throwing punches at him. As he was about to go unconscious, a boy came towards him. He couldn’t tell who it was._

_“Let me finish him off,” Something in Sherlock’s mind clicked, it was John. John, his only friend and companion. His John. The only person who he cared about. And he was about to “finish him off”._

_“I-i thought we were friends,” Sherlock whispered, tears falling from his eyes._

_“You and I? Friends? Let me laugh,” the sound of laughter took over the field, “we’ve never been friends. Can you hear me? NEVER!” John threw Sherlock back to the ground and chuckled._

“SHERLOCK! Wake up!” Sherlock was woken up by a very scared John shaking him, “are you okay? You were screaming and trashing around.” Sherlock bit his lip and looked down in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry for waking you,” he whispered, tears clouding his vision.

“It’s oka-why are you crying?” John put a hand on Sherlock’s chin and pulled it up, trying to get the younger boy to look at him, “tell me what’s wrong.” Sherlock gulped and tried to look everywhere but John.

“Did you have a nightmare?” Sherlock nodded, his cheeks burning red in shame, “it’s okay to have nightmares.” Sherlock looked at the clock, it said 3am.

“Go back to your room, you need to sleep,” he spoke, “I’ll be okay.” John shook his head.

“No you won’t,” he said, “you either won’t sleep at all or if you sleep, you’ll have an another nightmare. I’ll sleep in your chair.” Now it was Sherlock’s turn to disagree.

“I’ve tried sleeping there,” he announced, “my neck hurt for the rest of the week. Why can female friends share a bed, but males can’t?” John realised what Sherlock was proposing. “You can take the right side, I’ll sleep on the left. We won’t touch each other.” The shorter man nodded, thinking ‘why the hell not, this won’t do any harm’. He carefully sat down onto the bed and slid under the covers.

“Good night then,” he chuckled.

“Good night.”

In their sleep, the boys unconsciously snuggled together, searching for each other’s warmth.

Sherlock woke up a few hours later. When he opened his eyes, he was faced with a sleeping John’s face. Their noses were almost touching, Sherlock could feel his face heating up. John was holding Sherlock’s hand and their legs were tangled together.

The boy let out a shaky breath, thinking how long will he be able to keep his feelings for his friend a secret. He was terrified that if he found out, he would leave and Sherlock would be all alone again.

Suddenly John’s eyes snapped open. His eyes darted around the room, quickly realising their position.

“Oh god I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, panicked and quickly letting go of Sherlock’s hand and untangling their legs, “um, I’ll go and make something to eat. The older boy quickly left the room, leaving Sherlock into the bed.

Sherlock already missed John’s touch. He pulled a blanket around him, realising how cold it was in his room. All because of the lack of his friend’s touch.

“Bloody sentiment,” he thought, “messing with my brain.” He slowly stood up from the bed and pulled on his blue robe. He then went out to the livingroom and sat down onto his armchair, pulling his knees up to the chair.

“What are you going to make?” he asked and John turned around.

“Grilled cheese,” he replied and turned back to the stove. The sound of someone coming up from the stairs woke up both the boys from their trance. A few seconds later Greg was standing in the flat.

“Hi boys, Mrs Hudson let me in,” he said and John turned.

“Hi Greg!” he said and smiled, happy to see his friend again, “what brings you here?”

“Since Sherlock isn’t allowed to leave the flat, I had to bring him this-” He took out a strange bag from his packbag. “-Molly asked me to bring them, different kinds of blood as she said.” John’s eyes widened in realisation.

“Molly? As in Molly Hooper from our chemistry class?” Greg nodded, “where did she get those?”

“Molly is training at St Bart’s, she works in the morgue.” John raised his eyebrow in surprise.

Greg placed the bag on the coffee table.

“Well, have a nice day boys,” he said and left the flat.

Sherlock stood up from his chair and grabbed the bag, walking into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and put the bag into it.

“What are you doing?” John looked at his friend, wide eyed, “why did you put it there?”

“Well I can’t just sit here on the cupboard, can I?”

“No you can’t, but why the fridge?”

“That’s where I put my experiments,” Sherlock said this as if it was a casual thing, which it was, at least for him. When he saw John’s horrified face, he chuckled. “I’m going to start experimenting after breakfast,” he announced and John sighed, going back to cooking.

The boys were finished with breakfast an hour later. John had retreated into the livingroom and started reading a book. Sherlock, as promised, started doing his experiment.

***

**JOHN**

“Want some tea?” John asked and Sherlock nodded, going back to his experiment. John smiled and put the water boiling. In the last few days 221B had started feeling like home to him.

“What are you experimenting on?” the boy asked, looking at his friend.

“I want to see how different toxins affect different blood types.”

“Seems interesting.” While John was talking with Sherlock, he hadn’t noticed that his hand was resting dangerously near the stove. He accidentally moved his hand right onto one of the plates and quickly pulled back. John quickly put his palm under the flowing water.

Suddenly he heard Sherlock hissing in pain and he looked at his friend with concern.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, sorry, just my hand randomly started hurting.”

Sherlock watched in utter surprise as a burn scar appeared on his right palm. He then looked at his friend who was holding his hand under the water. His right hand…

Sherlock’s head snapped up.

“What happened?” John asked, noticing his friend’s weird behaviour, “Sherlock?” Sherlock went towards John and pulled his left sleeve up, revealing the scars. His eyes widened for a second, before he grabbed a knife from on top of the cupboard.

“What are you doing Sherlock?” the shorter boy asked and quickly pulled his hand out of the water. He grabbed Sherlock’s hands before he could do anything.

“Don’t try to stop me, John. Not right now.” Sherlock freed his hand and cut a tiny line onto his wrist. He watched as blood started flowing, a sudden sensation flowing through him. But he forced himself to ignore it.

John hissed in pain as a tiny cut appeared on his left wrist. His breath hitched and he looked up at his friend with wide eyes.

“Y-you?” he whispered, a tremor in his voice, “y-you are my soulmate.”

“Apparently.”

John threw his arms around Sherlock and pulled him in for a tight hug. He could feel his friend wrap his hands around him and he smiled, both of the boys’ eyes tearing up.

“After all those years,” the shorter boy whispered, “after all those years, you were the one.” Sherlock pulled back and placed his now shaking hands on John’s cheeks, wiping away some of the tears.

“C-can I kiss you?”

John brought their lips together. He could feel the other boy’s tears on his cheeks and he smiled, secretly vowing himself to always be there for him.

“I love you.”

Little did they know, Mrs Hudson was creeping behind the window, smiling to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this little story! <3  
> Hope the ending made you laugh ;)

**Author's Note:**

> The story on Wattpad: http://my.w.tt/UiNb/IgCAR0o91D


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